Dungeon Classics #48: Barton Fink

FilmDungeon’s Chief Editor JK sorts through the Dungeon’s DVD-collection to look for old cult favorites….

Barton Fink (1991, UK, USA)

Director: Joel Coen, Ethan Coen
Cast: John Turturro, John Goodman, Judy Davis, Michael Lerner
Running Time: 116 mins.

When the Coen Brothers hit writer’s block while working on Miller’s Crossing, they took a break and wrote Barton Fink: a story about a playwright who suffers from writer’s block. After finishing Miller’s Crossing, they moved on to this film, starring two Johns: John Turturro as the titular character and John Goodman as his hotel neighbour. Barton Fink has success with Bare Ruined Choirs, a play about the common man. He’s offered 2,000 dollars a week to work in Hollywood, and with that decision he sells his soul to the devil. He’s assigned to write a wrestling picture, but isolated in his hotel room, he can’t get a single word out of his typewriter. Turturro is terrific as the pompous Fink, who pretends to be a champion of the common man yet fails to listen to one when he finally meets one in the flesh: his next-door neighbour, Charlie Meadows. The film quickly develops an eerie, almost horror-like mood, while still delivering plenty of classic Coen Brothers humour. Barton’s haircut is so high it almost fills half the screen, the studio head (a scene-stealing, Oscar-nominated performance by Michael Lerner) literally kisses Barton’s feet, and Barton is forced to watch dailies of the most terrible wrestling movie ever made. The story unfolds like a nightmare in which Barton gets trapped in his hotel room and inside his own mind, which he doesn’t understand. The film famously won the Palme d’Or, Best Director, and Best Actor at Cannes 1991, the first film ever to sweep the top three prizes, a feat that sparked controversy at the time.

21. Bonnie and Clyde (1967)

Director: Arthur Penn
Writers: David Newman, Robert Benton, Robert Towne
Stars: Warren Beatty, Faye Dunaway, Michael J. Pollard, Gene Hackman

This review is part of the feature:

The 33 Gangster Films You Can’t Refuse

Few films have shaped the image of the outlaw couple as decisively as Bonnie and Clyde.

Set during the Great Depression, the film follows Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow as they drift from petty crime into full-blown notoriety, becoming folk legends in the process. Their crimes unfold against a backdrop of economic despair, where violence and celebrity blur into something dangerously seductive.

What sets Bonnie and Clyde apart from earlier gangster films is its tone. Rather than moralizing from a distance, the film pulls the audience uncomfortably close to its characters, inviting fascination even as their actions grow more brutal. The glamour of youth, style, and rebellion collides with sudden, shocking violence, redefining what a crime film could look and feel like in American cinema.

The film was controversial upon release, largely due to its unflinching depiction of bloodshed. Its climactic ambush remains one of the most influential endings in film history, helping usher in a new era of graphic realism that later gangster films would build upon.

Over time, outrage turned into admiration, and Bonnie and Clyde came to be recognized as a defining entry in the genre. It’s a movie that didn’t just depict crime, but changed how Hollywood portrayed it. Today, it stands as a cornerstone of the classic gangster film: stylish, violent, morally ambiguous, and endlessly influential.

F1rst Season Review: The Studio

The Studio is an inventive Apple TV+ comedy co-created by Seth Rogen, who also stars as Matt Remick, the head of Hollywood’s Continental Studios.

Remick should be the ruthless studio executive calling the shots, but he acts like a major pussy instead. He craves more than anything to be liked by the movie talents he so admires. Think Michael Scott in the movie business. His need to be liked and respected makes it nearly impossible for him to run the studio effectively.

It was high time for a show that satirizes the current state of the film industry, and The Studio delivers brilliantly. The series offers a slightly exaggerated (but not by much) behind-the-scenes look at mainstream filmmaking – how creatives and executives talk, how egos collide, and how projects rise and fall.

Each episode revolves around a cinematic theme – the long shot, the director’s cut, the cash grab, the missing real – presenting Matt and his team with a new challenge to tackle. The show is packed with cameos from actors and directors playing obnoxious, often hilarious versions of themselves.

Take Ron Howard in Episode 3, “The Director’s Cut”: He’s made a new movie, Alphabet City, which Matt and his team adore, except for one terrible, overlong sequence that everyone hates and no one understands. It’s Matt’s job to tell Howard to cut it, but he lacks the guts. This results in pure comedy gold.

The joke density is relentlessly high, and at times, it’s even more cringe-inducing than The Office at its worst. In one painfully awkward scene, Matt tries to insert himself into Zoë Kravitz’s Golden Globes speech via teleprompter, desperate for a shoutout to feed his fragile ego – only to be bleeped out, while Netflix’s Ted Sarandos gets thanked constantly.

The supporting cast is outstanding, with Bryan Cranston totally killing it as Continental’s CEO, Griffin Mill. I’m eagerly awaiting the next season and the clever movies within the movie they’ll dream up next. Dumb Guys 3 anyone?

Rating:

Easy Riders, Raging Bulls

BBC documentary (2003) by Kenneth Bowser, based on the book by Peter Biskind. Easy Riders, Raging Bulls: How the Sex-Drugs-and-Rock ‘N Roll Generation Saved Hollywood tells the story of Hollywood in the 1960s, a time when the studio system was in crisis. Their films had become increasingly irrelevant.

The problem was that movies were run by studios rather than directors, and the studios had lost touch with what audiences wanted to see. Then a new generation of filmmakers emerged who reconnected with viewers. Directors such as George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Dennis Hopper, Sam Peckinpah, Francis Ford Coppola, Arthur Penn, Warren Beatty, Robert Altman, Jack Nicholson, and Peter Bogdanovich.

“In 1963 the studio system collapsed”, says Bogdanovich. “It was over.” After the disaster of Cleopatra (1963, Joseph L. Mankiewicz, Rouben Mamoulian), the Fox lot was shut down. It became a ghost town. Television took over. The old moviegoers died off, and American films grew more and more meaningless.

Meanwhile, art theaters screening foreign films were doing very well. Many of the new generation of filmmakers learned the language of cinema from auteurs like Fellini, Godard, and Truffaut.

Outside the studio system, Roger Corman played a pivotal role in training young filmmakers to make low-budget B-movies that performed well at the box office. Jonathan Demme, Martin Scorsese, Ron Howard, and Francis Ford Coppola all started under Corman. They succeeded by targeting the youth who flocked to the thousands of drive-in theaters across the country, audiences that loved horror and action. Corman also had a knack for choosing hot topics: Hells Angels were in the news, so he made The Wild Angels (1966, Roger Corman). LSD was trendy, so he made The Trip (1967, Roger Corman) based on a screenplay by Jack Nicholson.

In Hollywood, directors proved just how out of touch the studios were. Executives hated Bonnie and Clyde, but young people loved it. Studios had to adapt. Paramount, in deep trouble, was taken over by Gulf & Western, led by the eccentric Austrian Charlie Bluhdorn. He brought in the now-legendary Bob Evans as a producer, who helped turn the studio around. How? By giving directors more creative control. Like he did with Polanski, who made Rosemary’s Baby in 1968.

At Columbia, Bert Schneider also trusted and empowered directors, resulting in massive hits, most notably Easy Rider, released in 1969. The drug-fueled chaos of director Dennis Hopper and his team is visible on screen. It was a great film, and audiences loved it. It was the kind of movie that never would have been made under the old studio system. The same goes for Midnight Cowboy by John Schlesinger, also released in 1969 – an outstanding film. That same year saw The Wild Bunch by Sam Peckinpah, which pushed violent realism to a whole new level.

The 1970s began, and the director’s era was in full swing. Peter Bogdanovich released The Last Picture Show in 1971, a film rich in emotional depth and sexual content, more than audiences were used to at the time. Dennis Hopper tried to follow up on Easy Rider with The Last Movie, but botched the edit due to his drug use and constant partying. “I had final cut, but I cut my own throat,” he says in the documentary.

In 1972, Paramount released The Godfather in 4,000 theaters simultaneously, a massively successful strategy. The history of that production was recently chronicled in the excellent miniseries The Offer. Coppola had now become one of the greats. He used his influence to bring George Lucas back to Hollywood, where he made the wildly successful American Graffiti in 1973 – a film studios didn’t understand, but youth audiences loved. That same year marked the rise of another major talent: Martin Scorsese, whose Mean Streets won over critics and audiences alike with its originality and authenticity.

But 1973 belonged to Warner Bros., which released The Exorcist by William Friedkin. Using the same wide-release strategy as The Godfather, it became a huge box office hit. It was Friedkin’s second success after The French Connection, cementing his status as one of the untouchable directors of the time.

By now, the auteurs had taken over Hollywood. This led to artistic triumphs like Chinatown (1974). But the young directors hadn’t forgotten Corman’s trick of attracting young audiences. In 1975, Spielberg released Jaws, a film that redefined what success looked like in Hollywood. Corman said: “When I saw Jaws I thought: these guys know what I’m doing, and they have the money and talent and skills to do it better.” George Lucas took it even further with Star Wars in 1977. The age of the blockbuster had arrived.

It had taken a decade, but Hollywood was back on its feet. Expensive B-movies like Alien, Superman, and their sequels became the new studio model. For about ten years, directors ruled. That era came to an end in the late ’70s, but it was a glorious decade that produced countless classics – films still regarded today as some of the greatest ever made.